


your body is a wonderland

by r1ker



Category: Midnight Special (2016)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 18:53:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6716992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/r1ker/pseuds/r1ker





	your body is a wonderland

Lucas gets the call one day that starts out like any other he's been getting for weeks now: _you are being contacted by an inmate of the Florida Department of Corrections. Should you choose to accept this call you agree to a service fee of $2.50 posted to the prisoner's account for future payment. Do you accept?_

"Yes," Lucas says, flitting about the kitchen in his daily effort to not seem like he's losing his cool living alone. For being just one person in one household he's astonished by how much of a mess he can generate. There's so much he's got to stuff into an overflowing trashcan, things to tuck back into their respective cabinets. His mom is responsible for most of it, having made the drive from Texas to Florida the week before to give him some sort of reminder of that past part of his life. She'd given more humanity than perhaps society was willing to allow him, what with Roy still being held within the confines of the facility.

 

"Hi," Roy's soft voice comes over the line. Lucas smiles to himself in that indulgent way he's always reserved for the way Roy has spoken to him. He ditches the smile when he picks up an abandoned bowl of cereal that maybe had seen better days at one point in its lifespan, and puts it down in the sink gently as to not break the silence between them. "I figured you were waiting on me to call today so here I am."

 

"Mom came over the last few days and I'm cleaning up the wreckage," he grins into the phone when he hears Roy's resounding chuckle in response. From their limited interactions Roy had said frequently in the past that he enjoyed Lucas's mother, liked the way the two of them bickered at each other with all of the playfulness a mother who loved her son dearly would have. "Are they keeping you somewhat enthused in that joint?"

 

Roy pauses for a moment in reflection and Lucas thinks for a second he'd struck a nerve. He knew it was about as humane of a facility that any jail could ever be but it ate away at him each and every day that Roy was so close yet so far away. The nights he'd spent awake looking up appeals, prisoner's (Roy's not a prisoner, he hasn't done anything wrong, he's not sick) rights, outnumbered the ones where he'd gotten ample rest. Against the receiver of the phone Roy clears his throat. "They're letting me out after today. Guess I stopped being fun around the three-month mark."

 

Lucas's heart, having spent so long in the pit of his stomach, leaps violently into his throat. For precious seconds his mind spins with the thought of going back and Roy _coming back with him_ and it's almost like his mind zeroes in on that dream now becoming reality. Within an instant he starts mapping out in his mind the quickest way back to the heart of southwestern Texas, if and when he could ever go back to the force he'd harmed so badly in the rush to get Alton to safety, and whether or not Roy'd even want to go back to the place that harbored so much of his life.

 

Lucas gathers himself together again and straightens back up, swallows around the lump in his throat as he attempts to respond. "When can I come get you?" At that he starts looking around for his keys, his wallet, grasping one between his fingers and shoving the other into his pocket. He's hoping with a little too much of himself that Roy's response will be _now, come get me out of here_.

 

To an extent, it is. Over the next few minutes Roy explains his plight, how the officials had gotten fed up with his lack of results – or rather, lack of giving them what they wanted to prove their theories of his otherworldly behavior. He reassures Lucas that at no point in the stay was he treated unkindly – Lucas had an inkling of that from the three days the two of them spent in a conjugal trailer finding other things to do with idle hands – and they were willing to get him out and help him find a job, a home.

 

Lucas knows that last part is already present. At any notion he will begin to move the folded, clean clothes from the other side of the bed to ready it for Roy's familiar figure. Roy does in fact tell him he's free to go as he pleases, and perhaps it'd be better if Lucas could get here as quick as he can within the confines of his schedule. Lucas agrees without hesitation and returns Roy's relieved laugh with one of his own. With the heel of his hand he pushes back exhausted tears rising to teem at the waterlines of his eyes, hangs up with hearing from Roy a typical farewell of _love you more_ to his _love you_ , and gets in the rented car parked outside on his way to the prison.

 

At the gates of the prison waits a man dressed in simple clothing, in no way ones he had picked out for himself, and Lucas knows without hesitation that it is Roy, free of the bars, free of the cell. He leaves a little room between Roy and the parked car to allow them enough space to properly come together again as they had so many times before. Like he'd be able to come forward, anyway. His feet seem to be glued to the marshy ground of this neck of Florida's woods, the heat and humidity stinging his eyes just as much as the relief of having Roy back once and for all causes.

 

He can see a small bag Roy's got clutched in one hand, the other resting in a loose fist against his thigh. Soon it's all too much and Lucas takes great strides to close the gap between them, letting Roy all but sprint into his arms. As they come together the two of them let out sighs made only of relief. Lucas can feel his heart racing through his thin shirt, can hear Roy's lungs struggle to hold in exhales tinged with tears.

 

They pull back only briefly to look at each other. Like he's been so many times before the sight of Roy looking at him like he is the world and himself an unworthy spectator moves him to lean in, press his mouth to Roy's. Roy accepts without a moment's hesitation, curls his useless hands beneath where Lucas's ears come to his head. In this the height difference is made evident in the way Lucas's back burns as he contorts to better suit Roy's advantage over him.

 

After years of something standing in the way from the two of them being together once and for all, Lucas smiles in spite of himself. It's like he's found water after years of roaming in the desert, a source that didn't harbor a secret poison, or perhaps a false bottom allowing him to think much too confidently into its potential. But now it's Roy, that unwavering outlet of potential, of adoration. And speaking of him, Roy takes heed and responds in the only way he knows how, his lips to Lucas's forehead, arms around his shoulders.

 

"You're going to wring that till it's past dry, aren't you?" Lucas smirks when he sees Roy looking down at him in that way he'd done before, feeling like he's got the upper hand on account of his height. A nod and Roy's back on him again, right as he should be.

 

He decides after that celebrations are in order, so with them both safely in the car and Roy's solitary bag tucked into the back seat, they search for a lunch spot in the heart of north Florida. After a while of driving around in circles they settle on chicken sandwiches and a spot out in the middle of nowhere, eating quietly with hands close to each other's. When they're done they don't get back out on the road right away. Lucas watches the cars pass by them on the stretch of highway before them, one of Roy's hands rubbing idly at the back of his head.

 

"When I was back with the community," Roy speaks up, hand having moved down to the nape of Lucas's neck where buzzed hair fades into skin freckled by years in the sun. "I saw you on the news once. You were next to some burning vehicle getting someone out. They'd talked you up for days after that and I saw your official picture the state trooper office took on your first day." He smiles like Lucas can't see it out of the corner of his eye. "Got your head shaved out of some elaborate prank?"

 

Lucas can see that picture clear as day even now, it being almost twenty years ago. God was it a bad picture, they'd made him come in at seven in the morning for the swearing-in, taking pictures and getting outfitted for his first day on the job. His mother had framed the picture on the center of her mantel and managed to point it out to just about anyone who happened to cross the threshold into their family home. "Initiation. A few of the older troopers tied us up like hogs and took us to some bar on the county line. I woke up feeling five pounds lighter from all the hair they'd shaved off and after that, I just decided to stick with it."

 

Roy can remember the few times Lucas had gone without a proper haircut, locks growing long enough to wind comfortably around his fingers. That was the first time Roy had ever felt anything for someone that wasn't familiarity. He can't quite put the feeling into words of seeing Lucas with hair curling around his neck, his ears where some of it had grown longer than others, the arms of black glasses tucked carefully into the precious mess. Come to think of it, where are those glasses now?

 

"And you stuck with the blindness I see," Roy remarks with a knuckle pressing softly beneath Lucas's eyes, where the glasses would rest against his face if he weren't so in denial about his lack of perfect vision. It hadn't been all that much correction to be done in the first place, just enough to make things appear sharper around their edges, but it was a must if he were to join the trooper force efficiently.

 

Lucas frowns a little when it becomes apparent to him that perhaps he'd be able to see the cars a bit more clearly if he'd just swallow his pride and fish out the glasses from their case in the glove box. Part of him goes back to the past where he's often found himself, remembers Roy saying something about how his eyes _weren't real_ in how they were, and for him to cover them up with glasses seemed like reneging on that comment, made in such high regard. "Tell you what; I'll let you take them off of me when we get back home." Without breaking his gaze Roy turns the key in the ignition to turn on the motor instead of just the radio.

 

Lucas doesn't remember the drive back to the apartment. He does, however, faintly recall inching up at every red light, the fire in his blood gaining fuel each and every time it recalled he was not currently on a bed with Roy lying beneath him in anxious repose. Part of his brain lets him know he only broke about three traffic laws when he pulls up to his reserved parking spot in the complex lot, barely taking the time to turn the car off and get out in an effort to spur Roy to follow his lead. The bag left behind in the car the two go inside, the door coming to a quiet close behind them.

 

For the first time since he moved into this particular building Lucas has never been more annoyed at the fact that the master bedroom is at the back of the apartment. He and Roy trip over one another on their way there, Lucas trying hard to shed any clothes he could think of in the process, Roy doing the same and ending up with just his socks on as Lucas tips him over lightly onto the rumpled bed. Soon they gather themselves, know that there's no point in hurrying when they've got all the time in the world to make up for lost time, and Lucas moves down his body on the bed.

 

The tip of Lucas's nose trails down Roy's chest, hands following close ahead in that they cup the sharp points of hips below. Here he can smell everything; the one that's perhaps the most notable is just Roy himself, the closest to Texas Lucas will ever get without an eight-hour drive west, beneath that the smell of cheap bar soap. To that he shakes his head and thinks of all the ways that'll be replaced in the coming weeks.

 

Above, Roy trembles. Lucas can feel him shaking like a leaf as the two follow through on the same familiar process conducted many times earlier in their lives as he opens Roy up with sure, nimble fingers. The shakes don't stop even as Lucas fucks him, sending him up the mattress on each thrust with a mumbled reassurance of safety, _you're safe, it's okay_ doing nothing to stop the gasps that accompany each involuntary movement. They do come to a screeching halt as Lucas brackets Roy's body with his own, dipping his hips into each thrust as to allow his body to rest on its elbows just above Roy.

 

Their ends are met swiftly and resolve accordingly. Roy's resounding cry is drowned out by Lucas's lips on his again. Having been close to his end from the beginning Lucas comes without any preamble, thinks of nothing but Roy to cause him to spill into the condom. He withdraws carefully and turns onto his side in an effort to urge Roy back up from his spot. They do, and from there the day around them turns into a brisk night. Falling asleep without any worry directed towards the mess cooling between them and on the sheets their bodies are together once again in much needed rest.


End file.
